


Nightmares

by SmallPenguin19



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Temporary Character Death, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25071946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallPenguin19/pseuds/SmallPenguin19
Summary: "The hundred years war may have ended well over six years ago but that doesn’t mean the nightmares have stopped."Four short stories (plus a short intro chapter) about nightmares that Zutaraang have years after the end of the hundred years war. Everything ends in cuddles and happiness.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking the other day that the Gaang, specifically Aang, Zuko, and Katara, faced death too often to not have developed nightmares. Thus, I decided to write what one nightmare driven night might be like for each of them. (Plus, one cute side story about Aang and some stones.) This series of short stories occurs in an AU where Zutaraang exists, and thus they would be present for emotional support. 
> 
> I didn't have a specific time and place in the canon-verse when I imagine these to occur. I almost imagined them as being short stories that could have happened at any point after the war. Okay, well at least 6 years after the war but they could very well happen even ten or more years later. 
> 
> As a heads up, there will be mention of character death, but no actual deaths. They are just nightmares and nightmares are only fears presented on the movie screen of the mind. But they are not real.

The hundred years war may have ended well over six years ago but that doesn’t mean the nightmares have stopped. Those last few weeks of helping Aang prepare to face the Fire Lord were interspersed with good moments, happiness even. But the battle, like the war, left scars like lightning strikes on dry land. (Perhaps that metaphor is too close to home.) But the scars left from war marked not just their bodies but their minds. Internal scars that couldn’t be healed by Katara’s water bending.

That’s the thing about trauma. It leaves invisible marks on the mind, dark fears that can possess the imagination once cued by some outside stimulus, or in the Gaang’s situation, a sense that everything is too calm.

For each of them, there was something unique that set them off. That stirred them late at night into the memory of a time long gone, a childhood stolen by war.

No, the nightmares didn’t go away, but they got easier to deal with. Certainly, with time, they would all breathe through the nightmares and quell their fears, or else the dreams would be replaced entirely with new fears.

But at least, for now, while the nightmares of war and loss hunted them at night, they weren’t alone. Or, in Zuko’s case, he wasn’t always alone.


	2. The Worry Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Aang had decided to give Zuko a gift, something to help with any fears that could haunt him while Katara and Aang weren’t around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Katara a bit more motherly and caring that I originally intended to write her, but due to this being mostly from Aangs point of view, I think that makes sense.

A few weeks ago, on Aang and Katara’s walk back from a meeting in the Southern Water Tribe, Katara had been strangely quiet. Her eyes were only half focused on observing the hue of the snowy igloos around them. The igloos emanated an orange glow as the setting sun washed every visible surface in a golden hue. It was a bit unusual for her to be so quiet, particularly after a meeting about training more healers. Aang had expected her to say something to him once they were alone. Something like a complaint or concern about the plan. Perhaps she would have complained, yet again, about how some of the men only half listened to her ideas when she would present them. It often infuriated her as she has been a master water bender for many years now. But she had been quiet that night. Aang had attempted to break her silence by making some jokes and comments about the color of the igloos in the setting sun, but everything seemed to bounce off her, as if she was too deep in her mind. After a long moment of thick silence, she spoke up.

“Do you think Zuko has nightmares when we aren’t there?” She asked, her eyes now watching the golden rays’ shimmer on the sliver of water just barely visible outside the tribe’s limits.

Aang hadn’t given it much thought before. He knew they all had nights where dreams unsettled them, even the Avatar was vulnerable to nights like that. Nights where he would startle awake in a cold sweat after having had his greatest fears play out behind his eye lids. But when he would wake from even his worst fears, he would find Katara murmuring soothing words to him. She would brush her hand softly against his head, tracing the edge of the blue arrow over and over as she murmured to him. Her words and caresses would chase away the fears from his mind as easily as if she could just bend them away, like water from paper. Ever since they formally started dating, he would try his best to avoid being away from her the best he could, and rarely for long bouts of time. It made it so he rarely found himself waking from a nightmare without her. But her comment stuck in his mind. Zuko never said anything about nightmares, though why would he? He was always trying to be stoic and focused, despite what Katara and Aang knew about him behind closed doors. He wouldn’t want them to worry about something like that.

After that evening, Aang had decided to give Zuko a gift, something to help with any fears that could haunt him while Katara and Aang weren’t around. The idea of what it would be came to him one day as he stood by the edge of a river, looking down at the river bed. The bed was made of a rainbow of river stones; pastel pinks, egg-shell whites, and distant-mountain blues laid beneath the steady flow of water, their edges smoothed by the river.

Aang enjoyed meditation by moving water, the sound was a soothing backdrop, like the howl of wind at the southern air temple. But unlike the wind that reminded him of his distant past, moving water surrounded him with the presence of Katara. The rush of the river reminded him of her patience when healing or when she had steadily taught him the many moves of water bending. During his riverside meditation it occurred to Aang that he could give Zuko a river rock to help him with his nightmares. Perhaps the smoothness of the rock could sooth him, or maybe Aang could carve each of their nations emblems into the rock to remind Zuko that his lovers were never far. Aang had seen similar rocks for sale in the Earth Kingdom. They were called Worry Stones and advertised to help with relaxing or anxiety relief. Surely it would help him remember Aang and Katara when he was alone.

The problem was the color. He looked down at the rainbow of options, searching for one that shouted Zuko at him. But, did he want that? Maybe he should give him an ochre one that matched Aang’s Air Nomad clothing or perhaps a cyan rock, the color of Katara’s eyes. Aang even considered one that was the color of Appa’s arrow. But, maybe Zuko wouldn’t appreciate an Appa stone like he would.

It occurred to him that he could just pick one rock of each color and present them to Katara for her thoughts. She always had a good sense for what gifts would actually make someone happy, not just something that made Aang think of the person. This habit of checking with Katara started when Aang was nominated by Toph to make a small bracelet for Suki from the group as thanks for saving them during the war. (Sokka claimed he would make her the most beautiful painting he has ever made to which Katara retorted “You can do that as your own thanks, Sokka. But I think we better give her something else.”). Aang had originally picked out a set of light blue rocks, until Katara had suggested blending in green for the Kyoshi warriors and perhaps to mimic the bond Suki and Sokka had. She was right, of course. Suki picked up on that idea immediately and had smiled thankfully at her gift, holding it tight.

Aang’s idea of presenting a series of river stone to Katara started with three options, but by the time he climbed onto Appa he was much closer to fifty. It made Katara raise an eyebrow when he returned.

“Earth benders sure love their rocks,” Sokka observed as he watched Aang bend the pile off Appa and onto the ground before them. He squinted as he looked at them. “You know, if you don’t have a use for all of them, these rocks would make excellent skipping stones.”

“This is a great idea, Aang,” Katara praised with a gentle hand on Aang’s shoulder as she looked down at the collection of rocks before him. She pressed her lips together as she looked over the pile. Her face betrayed the look of surprise at the utter number of rocks he had brought back with him.

“A heavy rock might do the trick, and it could double as a weapon.” Toph weighed in, from her reclined position.

Aang sorted through the colors, weighing each stone in his hand. He landed on six dense stones, which Katara agreed was far easier to choose from than fifty.

She pointed to a black stone, with different colors streaked across the surface. The stone was big enough to fit in the palm and be clasped.

“This one would make the most sense, it has the colors of the elements already blended through it.” Her voice was lower than Aang expected. A tone that was kept just between Aang and her, like she was whispering about her love for him. “That way when he looks at it, he will remember all of us, supporting him. Isn’t that what you intended?”

Aang nodded. A part of him wanted to give Zuko something that made him think of just him. Of only Aang, but he could do that in other ways, with other gifts. This one was meant to sooth Zuko, and certainly Katara played a big role in that. For all the fierceness she possessed when she fought to protect others or defend herself, she had a gentleness that could sooth away every bit of the boy’s tension. She was truly like the ocean; capable of ferocity but also peaceful calm. Her mere presence after something stressful would pulled either boy to her, like a song or, ironically, a moth to a flame. Aang had noticed as much after Zuko had stormed into his chambers after a council meeting one evening during a week-long stay at the Palace. The second he rid himself of his robes and royal head piece he had his head on Katara’s lap, letting her run her fingers through his dark hair. Her touch almost visibly pulled the heat from his knotted form, releasing his tension. The memory of them like that warmed Aang’s cheeks. He understood that pull to her so well. Even now he leaned into her a bit, until she inevitably stepped away.

That evening Aang spent the night carving two stones. One for practice, the second for real. Katara sat near him, a scroll in her hand, which she would occasionally look away from it to watch him work. She would smile every now and then, distracting Aang and making him blush slightly. Sometimes she admitted it was because of how he had his tongue stuck out between his lips. Other times because he had scrunched up his face in focus. Mostly, it was to observe his intensity in his work. Her blue eyes absorbed his expression carefully as she watched him. There was a depth in them that made Aang feel like he could nestle within them, safe from his duties as avatar, safe the possibility of mistakes, safe from everything.

By the time he was done, Katara had fallen asleep beside him, her scroll inches from her finger tips where she had dropped it. While he was excited to show her his completed work, he figured he could wait until morning and instead placed several kisses to her forehead.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered between kisses as he stirred her awake. She blinked drowsily at him, definitely still caught between sleep and wakefulness. A lazy smile crept across her face.

“Are you sure?” She yawned, ever conscious of Aang’s needs. In the past she would have dragged him to bed hours ago regardless of what he was working on. She would have done so while telling him sleep was important and even the Avatar needs sleep, world-altering problems or not. But somewhere along the line she accepted that somethings would outweigh sleep for him and decided to only call him to bed on the occasions where she sensed he wasn’t getting any work done. Following the nights where she opted to not lure him to sleep, she would push more caffeinated tea his way, a gesture that was often accompanied by a twitch in her brow as she watched him yawn. Nevertheless, she learned to accept that sometimes Aang was too focused on his task to stop. Or perhaps she was charmed by his focused expression as he fixated on shuffling through papers by fire light or paced the living room, his hand on his chin, in an attempt to solve all of the world’s problems. In the quiet of such a night she had slipped her arms around him, more than once, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek as she whispered, “You are braver and more selfless than the Avatar spirit could ever ask of you, Aang. Don’t let yourself collapse under the weight of its grandeur. You know I’m here for you, Zuko’s here for you. We will always help you.” The memory of her reassurances brought a gentle smile to his lips.

Aang pressed more kisses to her skin. “I’m sure.”

He helped her up, guiding her half-awake forever girl to bed with him in the half light of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains no actual nightmares but that's mostly because I felt this chapter needed to occur before the next one.


	3. Zuko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In that moment, as he assessed what had just happened, Zuko’s heart fell from his chest, shattering onto the ground as burning realization of what he just did struck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Character deaths in this story are only temporary as they are simply a part of a cruel nightmare. Childhood trauma is referenced.

The commanding fires of the Fire Lords throne burned orange, gold, and scarlet. The sight almost burned your eyes before it would ever burn your skin. Zuko sat with his knees folded beneath him, his head bent in respect, before the throne. He sat there, quiet and obedient while his sister spoke loudly to their father, gesturing broadly as she paced back and forth between Zuko and Ozai. Zuko had tuned her out long ago, having learned that it was better to agree and to not speak his thoughts. He glanced to his sides, searching for his mother’s calm and loving gaze. A look that grounded him when he felt lost and small. But she wasn’t in the room with them.

Gears started turning in Zuko’s head, slow as if caked with mud. Where was his mother? She should be sitting near him. So should his father; His father wasn’t Fire Lord. Something was wrong.

Zuko lifted his head, eyes set on his father, Ozai. The gold in them turned dark and cruel as he growled at him, “Where’s mom?”

Azula stopped her gesturing and ranting with a deafening silence. She turned to look at him, waiting for their father’s response, her eyes glinting with the flames of the throne. They looked too large for her face, but no less hungry for blood than expected. A wicked smile curled her lips too high on her cheeks. Their father looked no different. His iris engulfed by light of the flames around him, his smile a wicked sneer as he answered him.

“Wouldn’t you want to know, oh Fire Lord Zuko?”

The mud stared to fall off the gears in his head, he recalled that his mother left. But no, did she really? He had to check. A chill ran up his spine making the room feel wrong. Suddenly everything was wrong. It was dark in here despite the flames from the throne that should have casted light everywhere, illuminating the entire space.

With more effort than necessary, Zuko lifted himself from the ground, but his legs refused to cooperate causing him to stumble forward onto his hands and knees. Determined, he crawled a few paces towards the door. The corrosive sensation of unease bubbled up inside him as he demanded, no, pleaded with his legs to work. He needed to leave this room and escape this space that felt drenched in cruelty. Finally, his legs obeyed and he stood, rushing forward towards the door, as his heart raced in his chest. A cacophony of cackles echoed in the chamber behind him, a perfect mix of Ozai and Azula’s laughter, it was wild and lost.

Zuko’s feet cooperated enough to get him out of the throne room, and he hurried down the hall. There was no light in the halls, the floor covered with red velvet, thick against his feet and sticky, like a trail of blood instead of a carpet. Azula’s voice followed him down the hall.

“Better get there quick, brother.” She sneered. “Better check on mother dearest.”

He ran down the hall, the door to his mother’s room finally coming into view. He stopped at the threshold to catch his breath, placing a hand against the door frame to steady himself as he looked into the familiar room. Her bedroom was slightly brighter that the hall and throne room, with tall windows framed in red velvet curtains, almost harsh against the glass. In the center of the room was a four-poster bed, mahogany wood decorated with maroon curtains, sheets and pillows all of which were decorated with golden hem and Fire Nation emblem.

“Mother?” he was breathless, the word coming out harsh as he pressed forward into the room, almost tripping at her bedside. His hands landed on the soft plush of the blankets, the maroon sheet threatened to swallow his fingers. He saw his dark hair, against the pillow as she slept. His heart beat calmed. She was only sleeping. Of course, she was only sleeping.

“Mother,” the word like a prayer as the stillness of the room engulfed him. He felt comforted in her presence.

He reached over to run his hand through her hair, her silky black hair that he hadn’t touched in many years, not since he was a toddler and would knot his fingers into it. It was as soft as it looked. He pulled his hand back and the black strands came with it. As he his retracted his hand closer his heart started to sink into his stomach. Her hair remained attached to his fingertips, stuck to them rather than her head. Dread mixed itself into his blood, coursing through his veins as he tried to make sense of this nightmarish moment. His eyes widened. He reached out to her again, this time to wrap his hand around her delicate shoulder to shake her awake. But with his first pull against her shoulder he met no resistance, rolling her onto her back.

In her bed was a doll with black hair, styled like the Fire Lord’s wife, and dressed in a silken red robe. The doll was all too small to have made that bump in the blankets, it was barely the size of the small dolls Azula used to play with. No, not play with, the dolls she used to behead.

As the memory of Azula pulling the heads off her dolls traced through his mind, he felt horror mixed with fury ripple through him. He raised the doll from the bed, the body barely larger than his palm. The head lulling too loose from its body, as if hanging on by a strand.

Azula’s laugh boomed around him suddenly and his horror gave way to a hot flare of anger. She did this. She did this. She did this.

A slender hand touched his shoulder. A gentle, familiar voice murmured his name “Zuko.”

But all he felt was the deepest pits of rage, burning a flame so bright in him that it might very well burn away his skin from the inside out. Azula should step back, she should watch her back, she needs to pay.

In the millisecond after his name was said, he turned, his eyes almost small compared to the expression of blind rage that contorted his face. He whipped his arm towards the body behind him. Bright, hot orange flame burned out from his palm as he lashed out. The fire was all encompassing and blinding, like the pain that lit each nerve in his body.

Azula’s laugh was deadened by the cry of the girl he just burned. She stumbled back half a step before crumpling to the ground. All Zuko could see was fire, burning bright and yellow.

“Zuko! How could you?!” Aang’s voice torn through his seething fire. It ripped Zuko straight from his rage fueled stance.

Blinking, Zuko looked down at the lifeless body before him.

Aang was there, his arms tightly wrapped around her, desperately holding her against him, tears falling from his eyes.

“She trusted you. We all trusted you. We gave you a second chance.” He voice was breaking, etched with pain. To Zuko if felt like a reflection of the pain and anger he had for himself, but imposed onto Aang. Aang was lifting the blue clad girl into his arms, holding her desperately, his fingers white against the blue fabric as he gripped her.

In that moment, as he assessed what had just happened, Zuko’s heart fell from his chest, shattering onto the ground as burning realization of what he just did struck him. The pieces of his heart scattered as he watched Aang turn his back on him, carrying the girl, walking away from Zuko. Zuko’s biggest fear realized itself before him.

“I won’t forgive you this time,” was all that was left before the room was shrouded in black, and despair suffocated Zuko with the pounding of his breaking heart in his ears. He took a ragged breath, his body curling in on itself. He felt hollow and broken as he tumbled forward into a seemingly endless abyss that opened in the ground.

“Shhh. You’re alright. You’re safe.” A gentle hand brushed his hair down, the thumb gently tracing his hair line. The voice cool and soft, gentle like water lapping at the edge of a lake.

Zuko shuttered awake. He panted as his hands closed tight fists into the nearest fabric he could grab. His eyes fluttered open to the familiar canopy of the bed above him. It was the middle of the night, the room dark.

“You’re safe now Zuko. It’s okay.” Katara cooed, her voice was gentle and loving, a sound that felt like it could seal his wounds shut on its own without bending.

Zuko started to take stock in his surroundings. Katara was curled up on his left, one hand in his hair, smoothing it down, in a manner that calmed the chi that raged within him. His left arm was around her, clutching the fabric of her night-ware, knotted within it. Her lips were close to his good ear, pressed gently to his temple, occasionally brushing a kiss to skin.

Aang pressed kisses into the crook of his neck on his right. At first they felt like a shock to his skin, but after a moment they began to melt away more of Zuko’s pain from his dream. _It was just a dream._ Aang’s body ran against Zuko’s right side, curved against his whole form. Their feet tangled. Zuko realized his right arm was also entangled into Aang pants, his hand knotted in the fabric on Aang’s hip. Zuko relaxed the grip in both of their clothing, as Aang peppered more kisses to his neck.

Zuko steadied his breathing, a couple ragged breathes between calm ones. The fear and pain of his dream was still clawing at him, although the feeling was subsiding with every caress and kiss of his companions. If he had been alone he would have sat up, buried his head into his hands. Maybe even cry or walk to the balcony for fresh air, wish for some way to make the pain and fear go away. But tonight, he was fortunate enough to be able to pull Katara and Aang closer, to bury himself beneath them.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” The words a whimper on his lips. His throat felt dry like sand paper and his voice came out ragged as he apologized to them over and over. His mind was thick with the fresh fear of chasing them away or worse, losing them entirely. He didn’t deserve their love, their kindness.

Katara softly shushed him, a long drawn out sound as her arms circling his head in an embrace. Aang tightened an arm across his torso, nuzzling into him.

“It was just a dream,” Katara whispered, placing another kiss against his temple. Zuko sensed she did so without care for the sweat on his brow. She must be too focused on him to care. It cushioned the pain of the dream, the ache. His fear that he had killed her. But he hadn’t, she was here with him, with both of them. Very much alive, with her familiar warmth, gentle and loving. He could almost feel her heart beat as her chest pressed into his shoulder.

“It wasn’t real,” Aang spoke louder than Katara, his voice husky from sleep. He softly ran his thumb in soothing tracks against Zuko’s chest, tracing the edge of the scar they shared. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Tears he couldn’t control fell from Zuko’s eyes as he desperately held them. Their nights together ended like this far too often, although, it was becoming less frequent. As much as he hated to be so weak and pained in their arms (for surely all he wanted to be was to be full of joy with them) he was so, so thankful to have them here. Skin against skin, a bit too hot, but in the most reassuring way possible. For all his nightmares, at least he could have this. He could chase his fears away by nestling into their arms, by losing himself in their kisses, in their love.

To them he was never defined by his title. In the room they shared, he was simply, Zuko. A complicated, damaged, man, who’s pains ran deep into his childhood. But from the same embers that burned him down, he grew again, stronger, kinder, and more thoughtful. He often felt like he was a stark contrast against Aang and Katara who had both been born good and kind and were taught the value of being that way. But, he couldn’t deny that they too had been burnt by the Fire Nation, and reborn stronger and braver. They understood that the soot from war never left their skin. And when he needed them, the Avatar, and the once last water bender of the Southern Water Tribe were his shoulders to lean on, the hands that reached out to him to pull him to safety, and the voices that melted his self-loathing, and soothed his tension.

He kissed them both long and forceful, as if it was a gulp of fresh water after being starved for days. His lips were hot against theirs, full of need, but met with a familiar pressure. They echoed back his need, as if their lips alone could remind him that they were with him, and his own fears couldn’t keep them from him.

“I don’t want to lose you, either of you. My dreams used to be of losing my mother, losing my honor, losing parts of myself. But lately, the war in my heart takes attack against you two.” His voice trembled between his quicken breath.

“You won’t lose us.” Katara cooed. “You won’t lose either of us, Zuko. You dream wasn’t real, it didn’t actually happen despite how real it felt.” She pressed more kisses to his forehead, her hand still caressing him. She would never ask him for the details, as it never mattered to her how or what happened, only that none of it was real. She was resolute on that stance no matter how real his dreams felt, they weren’t true, but simply ghosts of his fears.

“Aah!” Aang cried, a startling sound as he recalled something important. He pulled away from Zuko, skittering off the bed, his presence quickly missed. If he hadn’t made such a typical Aang noise, particularly one he often made when he was remembering something, Zuko would have been hurt. But instead he was confused.

“So much for the mood,” Katara sighed, Zuko could hear the eye roll in her words. He cracked a small smile and nuzzled the crook of her neck. Her hand on him fluttered in his hair. She pressed a few more kissed to his head as they waited.

Zuko weighed the thought of wrapping her into a kiss now with the hope that she would drown out his pain in full with unbound love and kisses. Instead he chose to wait for Aang to come back.

Aang had disappeared into the shadows of the room for a good minute before returning, crawling across the disarrayed covers of the bed. He carefully navigated their limbs, as he snuggled right back up to Zuko. His left hand was a fist which he held over Zuko’s chest.

“I got you something to help with the nightmares while we aren’t here.” Aang murmured, a smile on his lips, his eyes slightly downcast.

Katara pressed another kiss to Zuko head, he could feel a smile on her lips this time as she did so.

Zuko put his hand out, beneath Aang’s. He was mildly surprised that Aang had something for him, although not too surprised. Aang had brought him gifts before, mostly small treats from meetings he attended without Zuko in different cities and towns. It had started some time ago when Aang had glided into the room with a bouquet of wild flowers for Katara. When he noticed Zuko beside her, Aang bashfully extracted a flower and presented it Zuko, a gift for his Fieriness. Aang must have noticed the pleasantly surprised expression on Zuko’s face as he tenderly accepted and stared at the first flower he ever received from, well anyone other than his uncle (who he had not appreciated receiving flowers from at the time: “I’m not a girl, uncle!” “But Zuko, flowers are one of the many joys of nature.”). From Aang, the small gesture felt different, it made Zuko feel appreciated, loved. It was sweet of Aang, and had charmed both Zuko and Katara, who later discussed it over tea while Aang was out meeting with the Swamp benders.

Aang opened his slender hand, pressing a smooth stone into Zuko’s. Aang then turned his own hand over to light a small fire in it so that Zuko could make out what the object was.

A rock the size of the indent in his palm and black as the night sat there. The surface was crisscrossed with stripes of different colors. He rolled the rock over, and saw a rough engraving on the stone; the swirl of the emblems for fire, air, and water were carefully carved into the surface of the stone. The carving wasn’t the best one he had ever seen, but he suspected that it was something Aang had done himself. By the time Zuko thought to smile at Aang in appreciation, he realized his expression had already unconsciously morphed into a smile.

“It’s a river stone that Katara and I picked out,” Aang told him cheerfully.

“One of fifty candidates,” Katara added. Her addition caused Aang’s smile to twitch a little, almost to a laugh.

“The colors in this stone felt symbolic of us: a mixture of orange, blue, and red. I carved it with the symbols for Air, Fire, and Water to symbolize us too. I wanted you to have something to hold on to when we weren’t here. Something to help sooth any fears or frustration.”

“The Earth Kingdom calls these types of things worry stones, right?” Zuko asked, touching the rock gingerly with the tips of his fingers. His eyes were examining the rock with reverence.

“Exactly, that’s were I got the idea!” Aang’s smile grew. “But this one I carved myself.”

“I can tell. That means so much more.” He closed his fist over it. “Thank you.”

He threw his arm around Aang, the stone tightly held in his grasp. He pulled him close so that Aang couldn’t see the shine in his eyes from the tears that rose. The love he felt melted away every bit of pain and fear from his dream, and replaced it with a sense of comfort and intoxicating adoration for these two, perfect beings in his arms.

“Thank you, both of you,” He added, pulling Katara in with his other arm. “This means so much to me.”

“We hope it helps,” Katara muffled the words into his hair.

“It definitely will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be very honest. I cast Azula in a worse light in Zuko's nightmare than I think he actually views her. But it's a nightmare so I think its fair to conclude that he demonizes her as a result of misguided anger.


	4. Aang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang's Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter of Nightmares fits into Zutaraang week 2020 bonus prompt: Beach.

All Aang could sense was constant pounding.

A constant thudding like a drum beat. And then there was heat. Fire raged around him, beating like a heart as it crashed against the earth surrounding him. Cracks in the rock ball that protected him from the source of the heat glittered yellow from the light of the fire. He could hear the heat crackle as Ozai send another burst of flame roaring at the rock. Aang’s shell cracked, and with it, his confidence in protecting the world broke into pieces.

 _No. This isn’t how it was going to end_. And the world rushed around Aang. The Avatar state cracked open and he passed beyond himself into the most powerful being.

Time failed to act as if it made sense. What started out as a battle between Ozai and him had suddenly blended into a new space entirely. Aang was standing in the burnt wreckage of a part of the Fire Nation’s capital building. His skin was blue and see-through, the color of his arrow. He marveled at it, recognizing the separation of spirit from body for only a moment before his eyes traced off his hands and up to the scene before him. He looked on as Zuko’s fire cast Azula aside. A beat of hope sprouted in his chest as she fell. But it wasn’t the end. She cackled, readying herself as lightning danced around her. She reached out her hand, lightning coursing from the air around her into a line heading for Katara. Time slowed as the lightning left Azula’s hand.

Something was wrong. He shouldn’t be here. He frowned as he looked on at the slowed down scene before him, watching the slow roll of the lightning as it almost walked itself across the ground, moving like a snake. Zuko face was contoured in anger, before traces of fear sprung across his face. Aang watched as the fear bloom in his eyes, and spread across his features as Zuko guessed at what was happening. But Aang knew what was going to happen before Zuko could even guess, and as he watched the lightening snake its way forward, Aang took a step towards it, intent to stop it. He knew this wasn’t how this story ended, and as an Air Nomad, he knew better than to mess with time. But he couldn’t stand there and watch it all unfold. If only he could protect them. A carnal part of him reached out for Katara and Zuko. A drive to keep them safe, the best the Avatar could keep anyone safe. Or well, it may be better to say: the best Aang, the Air Nomad, could keep someone safe. That is to say, at this moment in time, Aang felt like a hollowed-out version of who he once was. He couldn’t feel that sense that he was more than just Aang. He felt entirely mortal.

Aang reached his hand out as if to grip the lightning itself and steer it away. His hand closed around it. The light of the lightning whited out his view.

He stood at the eastern air temple, the moss-covered towers of the once great temple rose before him. But instead of being colored by the light of the moon or sun, everything was shadowed in darkness, and tinged blood red. Guru Pathik stood with his back to Aang. Sensing his presence, the guru turned.

“Who are you?” Pathik’s face bore truth to his words. For some reason he didn’t seem to recognize Aang.

“I’m Aang, the Avatar,” He answered, calm, putting his hands out, palms up, in offering.

“You are no Avatar.”

Aang felt heart beat in his chest, his body cold. Fear traced his spine as he reached inside himself to find the ever-familiar press of the Avatar spirit, but found nothing.

“You are no air bender.”

Aang turned his hands over, palms down, the blue arrows were missing.

“Avatar Aang died. He failed us.”

Aang’s eyes shifted off his bare hands and back to the guru’s face, which was cold and empty. Aang’s own mind offered no memories to explain what he was talking about. Only a hopelessness that threatened to engulf him. In this moment, the present was all too real to Aang, as if this moment was all there was.

“There is no peace here.”

As if cued by the guru’s words, a terrible roar splintered the silence around him. The sound felt like it was cracking Aang’s head in two. He turned around to face the thunder behind him, only to find that the world beyond the temple was engulfed in endless fire. The clouds were black with soot as the flying air machines and ships of the Fire Nation road towards him.

Realization drummed every nerve in him as Aang realized what he was looking at: the domination of the world by the cruelty of the Fire Nation. He had failed them. He didn’t keep anyone safe. He almost buckled down, as sadness tore into him sending sparks of fear shooting up his nerves. Pain cut through him like a hot knife, as he thought of his friends, and his beloved forever girl and forever boy.

“They all died, thinking that the Avatar would come back and help them. But your friends couldn’t fight their opponents.”

Aang dropped to his knees, as horror prickled along every inch of his skin.

“You see, because Avatar Aang’s seventh chakra remained sealed, he had sent himself down a darkened path straight to his own end. If only he hadn’t locked it for love. Then surely, the lightening that coursed through the fire nation wouldn’t have taken their lives, a cruel reminder of how the avatar spirit can evade death, but not his mortal friends.”

_Aang, wake up_

Aang’s mind flashed with a still image of lightening striking Zuko then Katara. What was skin deep horror soon swelled into an overwhelming loss. Unlike silence, this loss roared within him trying to devour all his happy memories with his friends and replace them with death masks. No, no, no. Something was very wrong. How did he not save them from such a terrible fate? How did he fail to keep them safe?

_Aang, sweetie, please!_

His focus landed on the grey splinters of ships in the cobalt water. Anger filled in the gaps of his soul left by the pain, setting heat through his body as if it rode on every little blood cell, lighting his veins with fire. His heart broke open, a cry swelling in his throat.

“Aang!”

The sight before his rapidly blurred into a haze until the ships disappeared and the fire that burned through everything was extinguished. He blinked.

His eyes refocused on Katara and Zuko who were looking at him wide eyed. The world around him felt fuzzy. Katara’s hands firmly grasped his shoulders, she must have been shaking him. He blinked again as he took in the world around him. He was standing outside, his feet in the soft sand of Ember island which he could identify by the smell of the salty tang of the water and the sound of the soft break of the ocean on the beach.

Katara’s hair was loose, a robe half pulled around her. Her blue eyes drenched in worry as she gripped his shoulders. Zuko, similarly clade haphazardly in a robe, gripped his left bicep tightly, his lips parted as he looked at Aang. Both of their faces were etched with concern, there eyes glittering in the moon light. But here they were. Zuko and Katara, real and alive.

“What?” Aang started, faltering a bit in the sand, his weight shifted forward into Zuko who wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I got you.” He murmured, his body pressed to Aang’s. Katara took a step closer. They were a closed circle now.

“You’re okay now, Aang. You’re awake. It was just a dream.” Katara ran her hand gently from his forehead, to his cheek, caressing him.

Aang nudged his head into her hand as he felt the two of them against him, their energies pressed up against his. Zuko’s heat, Katara’s softness. He lifted his hands assessing the backs of them, feeling reassurance in the presence of the familiar blue arrows.

“I’m still an air bender.”

Zuko chuckled, “And the Avatar.”

Aang looked up at him, reading the sincerity in his face. Of course, if Aang focused for just a second, he could sense the familiar press of the Avatar spirit within him. And like his bending, like the Avatar Spirit, here too were his most beloved pair. He moved his focus from Zuko down to Katara, relief washing over him, flushing him of the pain of his dream. He could feel Zuko’s hard chest, rising and falling with his breath, and the gentle press of Katara’s hands, an incredibly familiar sensation, like being home.

“It was just a nightmare.” His voice was a whisper.

“Yeah,” Katara confirmed, her voice warm as she took his right hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not real. We’re right here.”

“Just, please don’t sleep walk away from us again,” Zuko tilted his head to brush his lips against Aangs cheek bone.

“How could I ever leave you two?” he asked, with a sigh as he laid his head against Zuko and wrapped his left arm around Katara, pulling her closer until their chests touched. He closed his eyes as he breathed them in. How could he ever leave them? They were what grounded him to earth, the forces that kept him from losing himself within the duty of the Avatar. He had come to love them just as much as he loved Appa, perhaps even more so, for his love for Zuko and Katara took on an even greater shape. He wasn’t sure if he could ever even finish listing all the things he loved them, and all the ways they strengthen him.

Zuko’s eyes met Katara’s, worry shared between them. But they mentioned nothing of it. For right now, all they wanted was Aang to come back to them, safe and happy. The usual cheerful man they fell in love with.

“Let’s go inside,” Zuko prompted, more so to Aang than Katara.

“We can cuddle away your fears,” Katara added, smiling at Aang as grey eyes met her blue.

“I think I need that.” He answered, and they turned up the beach, heading for the Fire Lords Estate house. Once they made it back to the bedroom they would melt into the red fabric bed, a mess of tangled limbs, with Aang safely ensnared between Katara and Zuko’s arms. Aang reminded himself that he did defeat the Fire Lord. He saved the world, and with it he gained the most valuable thing he could ever dream of: the love of Zuko and Katara. With that he would often find himself smothered by them, as they whispered unprompted proclamations of love to one another, or ran their fingers tantalizingly slow against each other’s skin. Their weight against him reassured him, grounding him in this moment, in this present where they were safe and tangled together. His forever girl and forever boy drown his fear out with the endless waters of their love. Their strength, once again, keeping his fears from finding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly I wrote all five chapters in one weekend but I've been sitting on Aang's chapter for a while as I went back and forth on how this nightmare fits into Aang as a character. After reflection I decided this vignette makes a lot of sense for him. Canon defined his as struggling with the weight of being the Avatar, maintaining his Air Nomad heritage, and also his love for Katara. At first I also wished I had written more detail to Aang finding comfort in Katara and Zuko but as I thought about it I decided that I like the distance this chapter has to them cuddling. It's almost as if we are viewing the story as an audience and miss their more private moments.


	5. Katara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara's electric nightmare (I'll see myself out)

Katara rolled the snow between her gloved hands, forming a dense ball as she hummed softly to herself. She stood just outside her Water Tribe home, a pale blue igloo near the center of town. The sky above her was clear and blue like the color of most Water Tribe clothing. The details beyond her home were muted compared to the work of her focused hands.

“Katara! Run!” Her mom’s voice, eerily calm, called to her from inside their igloo. She ordered her away from their home with a tone that was not fitting to the words. Confusion rattled through her causing her hands to still. Something inside her pulsed. Perhaps it was fear. But Katara wasn’t listening to her fear. She was too confused by her mother’s tone. What was happening?

“Go!” The voice now sounded like a mix of her boys, Aang and Zuko, their tone was urgent. But that didn’t seem fitting to the world around her.

Katara’s gaze focused on the sheet that covered the entrance to her home, snow still in her grasp. The doorway to her childhood home was still, as if paused in time, unmoved by wind or other forces. Ignoring the words of warning that she heard, she stepped forward into the Igloo as if something called her to it.

She had partially expected to enter her childhood home, with its deep blue walls and warm welcoming fire. Instead, a dim teal glow filled her vision and her eyes focused on the cave walls in front of her. Oddly, she felt unsurprised to be stepping into the main atrium of the crystal catacombs of Lake Laogai. The large phosphorescent green crystals sprouted all over the cavern floor and walls providing illumination for the space. The sound of running water hummed from the underground creek feet away from Katara – the sound was almost soothing as water usually was for Katara. But that hum wasn’t the only sound. The thunder of fire focused Katara’s attention to the platform yards ahead of her. She watched as lightening and fire sprung from Azula’s hands, slamming into a strange rock formation that Katara knew, or sensed, was protecting Aang.

Horror rang through her like a bell pulling all of her nerves tight. She shifted her weight into the start of a bending form and lifted her arms to pull water up off the wet cavern floor. She focused on bending the water around her arms like tentacles, something she could use to whip Azula away from Aang, in order to stop her, or at least distract her. She needed to do something to help him. Anything. But there was no water than came to her hands. She looked down at them. They were bare, no longer protected by gloves, and definitely not protected by water. She put her hand over the water on the ground and willed it, demanded it to move, even the smallest motion, but nothing changed.

She begged, “Please, Tui and La!”

But the water didn’t move for her.

The crackle of lightning ripped through the cavern making her ears ache, Katara looked up from the water only to watch a blue lightning bolt hit Aang. The rigidness of Aang’s body and the wicked grin on Azula’s face was a moment that haunted her like a nightmarish painting plastered behind her eyelids. Icy fear filled her veins.

Katara begged her feet to move, to run to Aang and wrap him in her arms. But her feet were stuck in place, not frozen, just disobedient. Aang fell to the ground. Instead of racing forward, Katara was left to watch as Azula turned on her brother, who stood directly between Azula and her.

“Enough, Azula!” Zuko yelled, a blast of fire erupting from his closed fist. “It’s over!”

Azula sneered, using a simple twist of her wrist to throw the fire out of her way as if it was nothing. Her sneer became a wicked smile as she held two fingers up, emanating lightning directly out of them and toward Zuko. The look in her eyes was wild and powerful, contorted but fearsome.

Zuko crumbled before her, having taking the full blast of the lightning without deflection, just as Aang had. The horrifying crackle of lightning and the strange silence after echoed against the cavern. The silence was deafening in Katara’s ears as she processed what was in front of her. She felt the silence fill her in a hollow sense of loss that gripped her from head to toe. Tears fell down Katara’s face without control and her legs buckled, yet again disobeying her.

“What? No water bending?” Azula’s taunt came across as if she was talking to a child. She neared Katara, who looked up at Azula, feeling as if she was the same little girl running to save her mother from the Fire Nation. “What a pity. I thought this was going to be a challenge.”

Azula’s expression darkened as she neared Katara, her shoes splashing the water on the floor of cave, the sound a mockery to Katara. It was the sound of water she couldn’t bend. Azula raised her right hand, playfully holding the flame within it, looking at it as she approached.

“I killed the Avatar and then my brother, it makes sense that I kill a good-for-nothing water-bender next.” She hissed, standing a foot from Katara now. The blue light of her flame made her eyes a strange orange, and disfigured her features into a dramatically elongated caricature. “It’s pathetic that they ever took any interest in you.”

Katara’s eyes widen, as Azula started to lower her hand towards her.

But she stopped moving. Her head turning to the left to look at some distraction.

“Leave my sister alone!” Sokka yelled, his water tribe club raised, as he raced at Azula, not a moment of hesitation in his steps.

 _No!_ echoed in Katara’s mind as she looked on in horror, unable to move, or speak. Azula shifted her weight, her right hand moving forward across her body like an open palm jab, aimed directly at Sokka. The fire that came from it was blinding.

Katara fell into the brightness, swallowed whole, unanchored from her body. Her heart raced in her chest. Fear clenched her, tearing at her in the unbounded brightness.

“Sweetie, Wake up!” Aang’s desperate, but gentle plea pulled her from the white space into the dark warm air of the night.

Katara blinked, gasping as movement returned to her limbs. Aang was to her right, his arm across her chest, anchoring her body to him. Her gaze shifted over to see Zuko on her left just as he bent over her to slowly place kisses to the middle of her hairline then down towards her left ear.

“My Love, you are safe, we are all safe,” Zuko whispered to her between kisses. He had his arm across her body as well, holding tightly at her waist.

Tears burned at her eyes as she returned her focus to Aang, who was drawing soft circles with his right hand on her shoulder, his left hand in her hair.

“My boys,” She barely got out, before a sob broke-up her voice. She untangled her arms from the boys in order to pull Zuko and Aang to her in a tight embrace. She could feel their warmth radiating from them and she could sense the familiar beat of their hearts. Their hearts which were not stilled by lightning.

She pressed a desperate kiss to their lips, one at a time.

“No one is taking us from you.” Aang murmured, his hand brushing through her hair. “We are here, safe and whole.”

“I couldn’t bend in my dream. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even try to protect you, both of you.” She sobbed into the small space between them.

“It’s not real. It’d just fear.” Zuko told her, his voice husky. Being a fire bender ruled by the sun, his voice was always particularly husky late at night. He claimed it was fatigue – Aang claimed it was his attempt to tease them. In the darkness of the night, and as her fear subsided, Katara concluded that Zuko’s claim must be truer than Aang’s.

“We can prove it. You can still pull water from the air. Even if it’s just a drop.” Aang caught her hand in his, the one that had been white knuckling a grip on his arm. He held it up. Nodding to her as she bended a very small water droplet in the air before them, and moved it back and forth slightly.

“See? Now, hit Zuko with it,” Aang egged on.

“Aang!” Zuko protested but Katara obliged Aang, and gently tossed the small droplet of water at Zuko, hitting right above his scar. He reached up to wipe it away with his long and slim pointer finger. He frowned at the action.

Katara gave a small giggle. Which was echoed even louder by Aang, and washed the teasing frown away from Zuko’s face, replacing it with adoration for Aang and Katara.

“If it’s for your laughter, my love, hit me with as much water as you want.” Zuko purred into her ear. She wondered for a second if she had been wrong, maybe there was something intentional in the huskiness of his voice.

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Aang teased back before Katara could even open her mouth. Her smile remained in its place, her eyes were lit with a new fire that agreed with Aang sentiment. She would have to take him up on the offer too.

“I meant that for Katara, Avatar.” Zuko batted back, there was a firmness in his tone, but still some laughter.

“What’s mine is hers, and vise versa. That’s how this deal works.” Aang argued, shaking his head.

Zuko rolled his eyes.

Katara laughed softly at them. The fear that had torn at every cell that held her heart together was fading away quickly. Her dream a distant falsity, a shrinking shadow in the light of the love of her boys, her men, her Fire Lord and the Avatar. She may just be a water bender, but they had chosen her.

Aang looked at her now, seeing her expression changed as she thought.

“Our master water bender.” He cooed at her, pressing his body closer against her, nuzzling her with his nose.

“Our healer,” Zuko added, pressing more soft kisses to her forehead. “For us, there would be no world without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I do subscribe to the idea that Zuko and Aang teach Katara to no longer fear lightning, I think she has an ingrained fear that is entwined with her fear of loss. 
> 
> I also love the symmetry of her healing/saving both Aang and Zuko from their lightning wounds so, so much.


End file.
